TWD One-Shots
by EbonyWells
Summary: This is just going to be a bunch of short, TWD stories. If you have any requests, comment or PM me and I'll try to write it! Let me know what you think!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So, I'm thinking of starting a HS TWD story, circling mostly around Carol and Daryl. I'm working on it, as you read this. Well, let me know what you think of this! Thanks :)**

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Carol sat down on an overturned bucket, as she dipped a shirt into the sudsy water of a upturned bucket in front of her. She hummed to herself quietly, as she washed Daryl's sleeveless shirt. She almost didn't notice as Beth sat down on an overturned bucket beside her and started washing clothes herself.

"You don't have to help, sweetie. Don't you have Judith duty anyway?" She questioned, as she looked up at Beth but managed to continue washing the shirt without looking. Beth shrugged and batted her eyelids.

"You're always down here, doing the laundry. Maggie is taking care of Judith for me." Beth looked around the gray, cement walled room and then back down at her pail of water. She went to grab one of Daryl's shirts when Carol stopped her.

"No! I- I mean…" Carol let go of Beth's wrist, leaving a trail of suds behind. "Daryl likes his shirts washed a certain way. I'll take care of his clothes, go ahead and start on Rick's." Carol tossed her a raggedy, checkered shirt that Rick often wore, and Beth's hand emerged from the soapy water just in time to catch it. Beth smirked a little as they both started washing clothes again.

"I know I'm only seventeen, but I think you're pretty blind." Carol ran her hands through the water and perked her ears.

"How so?" She asked, while she started to wash another one of Daryl's shirts. Beth adjusted herself on her bucket and wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, leaving a puddle of water behind.

"You and Daryl. I don't know if you two are just being naïve, or just completely oblivious, but I've seen the way you two look at each other. The way you communicate, I mean seriously. You're the only one Daryl talks to most of the time, other than Rick and that's usually for their like war plan or something." Carol chuckles as she stands up and hangs a shirt on a railing.

"What're you getting at?" Daryl was just a friend. Probably all he'd ever be. That thought made Carol upset. She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she thought about her and Daryl's friendship. _Friend_ship. Carol shook her head quickly, as she hung another shirt.

"There's the obliviousness again!" Beth shirked a little, still sitting at her spot on the bucket. "You two have been dancing around for at least a solid year. I'd say that ever since Sophia, Daryl kept a close eye on you and his feelings progressed. But, we all know Daryl, he's a closed book." Carol nodded in agreement as she finished hanging clothes up and started working on hanging the clothes Beth had washed.

"Am I really getting love advice from a seventeen year old?" Carol chuckled, while hanging her own nightshirt.

"I'm not to bad at it, huh?" Beth laughed as she finished washing and started hanging clothes with Carol. She sighed a little as she continued to hang laundry.

"Oh, what I wouldn't do for my old maytec back home."

* * *

Daryl found himself staring into Carol's cell, watching her crying quietly into her hands. He was quiet as could be as he stood in her doorway. Should he stay? Should he acknowledge the fact that he was there? Should he try talking to her, comforting her? What would he say to calm her down?

'_Ey Carol, why you cryin'?_

_Are you alright?_

_You still look beautiful, even when you're crying. _

Daryl played different scenario's in his head as he continued standing in her doorway, watching her like some weirdo. He could almost hear Merle telling him to grow a pair of balls and talk to her. That's when he felt someone slap him on the back and jumped up, nearly pissing his pants he turned around and glared at Merle, who was standing behind him.

"Now, now little brother. Calm down, it's jus' me." He whispered and smirked, knowing he had startled Daryl.

"Go away." Daryl gritted as quietly as possible, hoping Carol wouldn't hear the two of them. Merle's eyes went from Daryl, to a crying Carol and back to Daryl again.

"Ye' woman is cryin'. Go comfort 'er." Merle gave him a push and Daryl stumbled backwards, into her cell. Barely catching his footing, he glared at Merle as he smirked, satisfied, and walked away. Daryl looked over at Carol, who had brought her head out of her hands and was looking at him. She wiped her eyes, and sniffled, trying to act like she wasn't just crying.

"Daryl? Do you need something?" Daryl nervously looked up at her and bit on his thumbnail.

"No, no. I don't need nothin'. Why were ya, uh, cryin'?" He asked softly, trying to be gentle with his words. Carol crossed her legs up onto her bed and patted the empty area for him to sit by her. Daryl hesitantly looked at her and then the empty space. He eventually obliged, and sat down next to her, timid.

"Would you really like to know, Daryl?" She asked him, while looking down at her hands. He nodded. Of course he wanted to fucking know. Carol meant a lot to him, and he hated seeing her hurt, or upset. She sighed and adjusted herself, so her shoulder was pressed against Daryl's. He flinched slightly at the feeling of her touch, even if it was _just_ her shoulder.

"I've just been thinking… A lot. About Lori. And T-Dog. And… Sophia." She croaked the last name out and a few stray tears rolled down her face. Daryl looked at Carol's face, and tried holding back a few tears of his own. He just wanted to open his arms and hold her. But he didn't want to scare her off.

"Why were ye' thinking 'bout them?" _Dumbass. _Why was she thinking about them? Why _wouldn't _she be thinking about them? Carol looked up at Daryl with red, puffy eyes, a few tears on her cheeks.

"Tomorrow will be three months since Lori, and T. Lori was one of my best friends… And T-Dog _died _for me." Carol sighed shakily, still looking at Daryl. "Yesterday marked a year, since Sophia." Daryl's ears perked up and Carol allowed a few more tears to escape from her eyes. He stared at her, before wiping away her tears with the back of his thumb. Her skin felt cool, probably from the tears.

"Please don' cry." He should've pulled his hand away, but he let it linger. "You're still here, that's all that matters." Carol nodded slightly as she put her hand on Daryl's wrist.

"I guess its good that T-Dog saved me, because now I can do this." Before Daryl could comprehend her words, she had leaned in and gently kissed him. He was stunned at first and didn't respond, causing Carol to pull away and take his hand off her face. His lips tingled and he was barely able to catch the whine from his throat. "Sorry." She sighed a little and looked away.

"Don' be sorry. I was just surprised." He grabbed her wrists and pulled her closer. "Kiss me again." He whispered and smirked a little. Carol looked at him, weakly smiling and kissed him again. This time, Daryl kissed her back, and there was nothing gentle about this kiss. Daryl lied her down on the bed and kissed her neck. She moaned quietly as he started to lift up her shirt.

"Daryl," She whispered as he threw her shirt onto the floor. "We can't do this. What if someone comes in?" She looked out her cell door. The only light was the moon shining in through the windows and she didn't hear anyone out in the main area of their cell block.

"I don' care. I've been waiting for this for so long." He admitted and kissed her jaw line.

"Me too." She said, breathlessly and kissed him again.

* * *

The two of them lied in the bottom bunk of Carol's cell. Daryl's arms were wrapped around Carol and she had her head lying on his bare chest.

"I should've kissed you forever ago." Daryl said, and Carol listened to the rumble in his chest.

"At least you finally did." Carol looked up at him and blushed a little. "And then did some other stuff." Daryl chuckled and kissed her forehead. Carol sat up and looked around at her clothes littered cell and smiled. "Figure we should clean up our mess?" Daryl shook his head.

"Nah. No need." He pulled her back down and kissed her roughly. He lied her down while kissing her and held himself up with his forearms. Carol pulled back and smirked.

"Think we can go a second time before everyone gets up?" She looked out the window to see the moon lowering in the sky. Daryl nodded and kissed her neck.

"Hell yes."


	2. Chapter 2

**So, this is a quick One-Shot I had in mind. I know its not Caryl, but I think I'm just going to put any One-Shots I have in mind under this. Anyway, I thought I would do one through the POV of Sophia, when she was lost in the woods. If you listen carefully in season two of TWD, when they find Sophia in the barn, Hershel says **

**"Otis must've put her in there." But, Otis died shortly after they arrived. They thought Sophia was alive all this time, but in any logical case, Sophia would've died the first or second day she was missing, walked to the creek thing, got stuck and Otis took her to the barn. So, yeah. Baha, I ramble to much. Basically, this is what I believe happened to Sophia.**

**Anyway, Enjoy!**

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Sophia raced through the woods, gripping the doll to her chest, terrified. She was alone in the woods… Well, not entirely alone. There were those _things._ They had gotten her daddy, and Jim and Amy. What if they got her too? She blinked back tears as she thought about it and continued to run through the woods. She hadn't seen any of the undead, and it nerved her a bit. They were hiding, waiting to jump out at her. She wanted her mommy. Running out of breath, Sophia slowed down to a walk and looked around at the darkening woods. She needed to find somewhere to stay. Looking over the dolls features; her pale skin and brown thread hair in pigtails, Sophia smiled a little, remembering her friend that had left, and given her the doll as a keepsake. She would talk to her sometimes.

Whenever she was lonely. About the world, and the things that snarled and snapped their meaty and rotting teeth at them. About the things her daddy had done to her and her mommy. She never responded, but she always listened, and Sophia liked that. She came back to reality when she heard a snap of a stick under someone… Or something's feet. Looking around, frantic, hoping her eyes would quickly adjust to the darkness, Sophia started running again and gripping the doll tightly around the waist. Nearly tripping over her own, frail feet, she kept running until she found what looked like an abandoned farmhouse.

Sophia slowly approached the farmhouse, with blue paint chipping at its sides and weeds overgrowing. Before walking in, she stopped and grabbed a pretty white flower that was growing in with the weeds. Walking into the house, she looked around for Walkers and saw none. Floorboards creaked under her as she walked through the kitchen to a small closet. Putting the flower behind the curve of her ear, she sat down under the bottom shelf and curled up, holding the doll to her chest and closed the closet door, hoping this would keep out any creepy crawlers that may come her way.

Closing her eyes she quietly hummed a song her mom used to sing to her. Whenever she had been scared, or her daddy had a screaming fit, her mommy would tell her to go with her and they would sit on her bed, Sophia on her lap and she'd quietly sing the song beside her ear. Lately, it seemed that she needed that song more than ever, but her mommy was to busy to sing to her.

She was lost in the woods, with no food, no weapons, no mom beside her. She needed this song more than ever. She just had this doll and this flower, and those couldn't protect her from Walkers. Opening her eyes, she stopped humming and took the flower from her hair and studied it. It was a pretty white, and had a pretty shape to it. Smiling a little, she set the flower beside her, lied down the best she could and fell asleep.

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She sat in her spot under the shelf for a while after waking up. She was starved, but didn't want to move. Last night, she thought she had heard footsteps in the farmhouse and she was terrified. They sounded like heavy, uneven, trudging footsteps. She wasn't sure if whatever it was had left or not, and she didn't want to find out. After gathering enough courage, she slowly opened the closet door and peeked her head out. She didn't see anyone; or anything. Standing up, she quickly grabbed a random can and read it. It had fish on the picture and said _'Sardines'. _

"Sardines? Ick." She said to herself, and looked around the closet and found that was basically the only kind of food around. Wrinkling her nose, she opened the can and grabbed a sardine by its tail. Closing her eyes, Sophia cringed a little and swallowed it in one gulp. She quickly ate the rest of them, before grabbing her doll and walking out of the farmhouse. Leaving the flower behind.

* * *

The Georgia sun, beat down on the young girl as she looked around for anything she would recognize. A glimpse of the highway, maybe the RV. Even the redneck whom she had become familiar with would do. He seemed nice. Definitely a lot nicer than his brother. Some of the group had gone out to Atlanta, and he didn't come back. She wasn't sad about it, though. He had always made remarks about her mommy and daddy. Sophia was once again caught in her thoughts, and almost fell down a rocky and bumpy hill, leading to a lake. She exclaimed in fear, as she barely caught her footing, but dropped the doll down the hill.

"No!" She shouted as it tumbled down and she was stuck at the top. She couldn't climb down that without getting hurt. It was rocky, and had lots of skinny trees and dirt on it. She would easily loose her footing. She eyed the doll as it came to a rest at the foot of the hill. There was nothing she could do. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at the doll one last time, and walked away.

It seemed like darkness came a lot quicker that night and she still hadn't found any sign of the group. Were they even looking for her? What if something happened to them on the highway? Did Rick even come back for her?

_Rick lied to me. He separated me from my mommy. I just want my mommy. _Sophia began to cry, as she realized she had no one to talk to anymore. Not even her doll.

"I just want to go home." She sobbed to herself as she sat on the floor of the woods. She cried into her hands and didn't notice the walker, who's attention she had drawn, walking towards her. It wasn't until the hands of the undead had grabbed onto her dirty, matted hair and pulled that she realized she was in trouble. She screamed and tried to pull away, but the Walker kept it's grip and pulled her towards it, chomping its hungry teeth. Sophia screamed and cried as it took a bite out of her shoulder, and everything seemed to go black.

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**Kind of a depressing ending, I know. But I've always wished they showed us what happened to Sophia in the woods and this is what I believed happened. Anyways, please check out my new story titled **_**Wishing.**_** It would mean a whole lot if you guys let me know what you think! And comment any One-Shot requests!**

**Thanks For Reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**This idea popped into my head at like midnight and I just needed to write it down. I've always wanted to know what happened to the Morales family and I really wish they would come back, kind of like Morgan did. I do have some predictions though. I was thinking that maybe, they're at the Sanctuary that was mentioned briefly in the Season Four trailer. Ugh, I cant wait till Season 4, but I have a feeling that Carol dies :'( If she dies I'll just… Bawl. But anyway! Oh yeah, I don't know any of the families first names, so I'm just going to make up my own.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Summary: The Morales family have been on their own ever since they left the Atlanta group and haven't found a solid place to call shelter.**

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Wilmer Morales drove through the deserted roads. Driving his way around a crashed car, or the occasional walker. Looking at his children in the rearview mirror, he smiled a little.

"You know everything is going to be alright. Daddy will keep you safe." He tried to believe his own white lie. He would do anything for his wife and children. _Anything._ Protecting them was his main priority, but Walkers may have a different plan. Carlos, his ten year old son, only nodded.

"Daddy, I miss Sophia." Alexandra whined from her booster seat and she looked down at her empty hands, which were normally occupied with her fabric doll. She had passed it on to her friend, before leaving them. Before Wilmer could respond, his wife did for him.

"I know sweetie, but we needed to go off on our own. We might see them again some day." He brought his eyes back to the road ahead, hoping to see some kind of uniform. Some kind of, authority. Military, Navy, Army. Even the police would do. Not just one or two like Rick and Shane; at least a decent sized group. A group that could assure them it would be okay and that they could protect his children, and his unborn child. Eyes still set on the road, he placed a gentle hand on his wife's stomach and smiled as she set her feminine hands on top of his.

"What if the _bad guys _get us, and we turn into them?" Carlos quietly asked, referring to the Walkers as _bad guys._ Wilmer's grip tightened on the steering wheel, causing his knuckles to turn white.

"That isn't going to happen, I promise." He repeated as he took his hand away from his wife's stomach and gripped it just as tightly on the steering wheel.

"But that's what Jim said to his family." Alexandra squeaked and Carlos nodded.

"And the _bad guys _got them." This time, he heard his wife gasp in sadness and he slammed on the brakes, jerking everyone forward in their seats. Quickly turning around in his seat, he stared at his two children.

"I don't want you talking like that, _ever _again." Wilmer shouted a bit, causing his children to jump a little in their seats. "We will find a place and it will be safe. I know it will. I don't want anymore negative conversation until we get there." Sighing, he turned back around and slowly started driving again. The only sound heard the rest of the car ride, was their steady breathing.

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Wilmer was the only one awake, as he pulled up to a farmhouse. Looking at his wife and children sleeping soundly, he slowly got out of the car and quietly shut the door. Observing his surroundings, his eyes were immediately drawn to the rubble of what looked like a burnt down barn. Walking over, he gripped his knife as a few walkers aimlessly walked around it. The first walker, was in a long, blue skirt and it appeared to have had curly, long blonde hair.

_Similar to Andrea's._ He found himself thinking as he stabbed the walker in the head. He didn't have much time to study the walker, when another one came snarling his way. It appeared to have been a teenage boy. Most of his left leg had been gnawed off and he had a huge chunk missing out of the burrow of his neck. Without much effort, Wilmer stabbed it through the head also and walked the rest of the way to the remains of the barn. A small fire was still burning and smoke radiated off the remaining, charcoaled pieces. He couldn't believe his eyes, when he saw an RV, parked in a spot beside the remains. Shaking his head in disbelief, he jogged over to the front side of the RV, and brushed off a layer of dust with the palm of his hand.

"Dale." Exclaiming under his breath, he read the gold lettering by the door that spelled out Dale's and his wife's name. He looked inside the doorway, and saw a blood splattered mess, that caused tears to spring to his eyes. What if that was Dale's mess? Looking over the outside of the RV, he saw it was dirty, and dusty and hadn't appeared to have been moved in a long while. Maybe they were here… Quickly, Wilmer ran over to the big, white farmhouse and busted through the door. "Rick? Carol? Sophia!?" He ran throughout the house, hoping to see any of them. Nothing.

Disappointed, he walked out onto the porch and surveyed the plot of land. Numerous walker bodies were spread out around the grass. Fences were torn down and graves were beneath a big oak tree. Graves. If the Atlanta group was here, that meant he must know some of the people buried… Immediately, he bolted over to the graves. Out of breath, he studied the five wooden crosses.

"Annette. Shawn." He read the names scribbled onto the crosses. "Otis." His heart dropped once he read the next names. "Dale_… _S-_Sophia." _Putting his head in his hands, he sighed. "Aw, god damn! Sophia!" He couldn't imagine what Carol was going through. What had happened to her? Did someone hurt her… Did _something _get her?

That's when he realized, he wouldn't be able to keep his family safe. If this happened with the whole group, what could happen with just him, his pregnant wife and his two, young children? Crying into his hands, he jumped up when he felt his wife's hand on his shoulder.

"Wilmer? Is everything alright? Where are we?" He looked over his shoulder at his wife, who was holding Alexandra in his arms and grasping onto their sons hand. He sighed and his gaze returned over to the five graves in front of him. His wife followed his gaze and gasped as she read the names.

"Sophia?" Carlos asked, taking his hand away from his mothers and stepping up to the small grave. That's when he heard Alexandra cry. Wrapping an arm around his boy, and then his other around his wife's shoulders, who was holding his now crying daughter, they all stood together and mourned their friends.

* * *

Carlos and Alexandra had each fallen asleep on a small, floral couch. They had decided to stay the night, and Wilmer and his wife were now discussing whether or not they should stay permanently.

"It might have some critical damage outside, but inside is nearly untouched! There's generators and food and medical supplies! I think it would be good to stay." He explained. He had taken a tour around the house and the property. There was a lot of Walker bodies, but nothing they couldn't clear out.

"Those graves are right out there, though! Oh, I cant even imagine what Carol is going through." Bringing his wife in for a hug, he stroked her hair.

"We can clear out those bodies. Fix up the fences. It would be a great place to raise the baby, and it seems real safe." She rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

"You really think so?" Resting his chin on her head, he nodded slightly.

"I know so."

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**Not the best but, oh well.**

**Thanks For Reading! **


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